Dear Diary
by KeatsLove
Summary: Claire tries to sort out her conflicting feelings for Desmond when she knows she 'should' like Charlie.
1. Chapter 1

**Day 75. **

Dear diary,

I hate it that my insides do a little flip-flop and my heart beat exhilarates every time I see him. I mean, this is how I should feel about Charlie, right? Not Desmond. I never planned this. . .this _thing_ – whatever it is – for Desmond. I wouldn't be playing house with Charlie if I did.

What is wrong with me? I've probably got one of the sweetest, most protective guys in creation worshiping at my feet and all I can think of is how the needy-grabbiness repels me. I don't like being clung to. It's stifling. I've always liked room to breath.

I used to search for Charlie in a crowd, and thrill when he would talk to me or walk with me before Aaron was born. Who wouldn't like the attention when they were 9 months pregnant and felt like a beached whale? Charlie made me feel special. I could remember what it was like to see my toes, have a flat stomach, and not waddle from the 35 extra pounds sticking straight out from my belly. It was good to be seen as "Claire" instead of just "That Pregnant Chick."

Now that little thrill that used to run through me for Charlie, transferred to Desmond. I didn't mean for it to happen. It just did. He's haunted. There's a mystery about Desmond. There's a story behind those sad, tragic eyes and I so desperately want him to tell it to me. I've always been attracted to people with "problems." That need to something "fixed." Not that I'm the best one to do the fixing, but I love trying.

We'll see what happens.

**_Claire_**


	2. Chapter 2

Day 78

Dear Diary,

Still confused as ever. It's time like these that I wish Shannon was still alive -- I could always ask her about "relationship issues." She always gave the best advice. Better than all those books combined I read when there was trouble with Thomas. Sometimes I wonder if I talk to her if she'd still answer. Like in dreams. This is one crazy island to crash land on so anything is possible. I wonder if Sayid still talks to her.

Maybe I should ask Kate. At least she can relate. Shannon always had guys chasing after her, but never really liked any in return. Till Sayid and possibly Boone but, then again, they came to her like all the others.

I do know I need to be nicer to Charlie. He's trying so very hard so I shouldn't push him away. No matter how tempting it is at times.

Desmond keeps trying to push me away and I keep pushing back. I don't give up that easily. He should know that. Even if he couldn't read minds or see stuff or whatever it is he does. I wonder what he sees for our future? If we even have one.

I need to start hiding this journal better just in case Charlie reads it. My feelings are the last thing I want to explain to him right now. Hopefully, I can clear my mind and heart and come to some sort of decision. There's also Aaron to consider. It's not just what I want any more but what's also best for him. I hope I can do what's best for all around.

Till next time diary...

**_Claire_**


	3. Chapter 3

Day 80

Dear Diary,

Contrary to what I usually write, I'm not always obsessing over Desmond. Really. I mean it. I can think of other things. Aaron. Getting rescued. Charlie. Loads of things that aren't Desmond. Really.

The other day Charlie did something that definitely deserves mention. He got Sun to watch Aaron and then surprised me by a secret picnic by the caves. Next to that little waterfall that I've always thought was pretty. When I asked the occasion, he said "Your birthday."

"But my birthday was in January."

"This is for all the birthdays I've missed. How old were you last?"

"22. You?"

"28 come December."

Funny how we've shared so much in such a short time and didn't even know how old the other was till now. Charlie produced two little cakes in Dharma packaging. They looked like those American sweets called _Little Debbie's_.

"I don't have candles but we can pretend," he said.

I made a big show over 'blowing out the candles.' "You make a wish now," I said, motioning at his cake.

Charlie did an even better job than me making it look exciting blowing out imaginary candles.

"Great job!" I said, clapping. "What did you wish for?"

"If I tell you, it won't come true."

It was one of the sweetest afternoons ever. Charlie really knows how to make a girl feel special.

So, I don't always think about Desmond. I just wanted to prove it.

Till next time, diary...

**_Claire_**


	4. Chapter 4

**Day 82**

Dear Diary,

I swear, if Desmond saves Charlie one more time, I'm going to nominate him for sainthood. Is there anything this guy will not do to save someone he barely knows?

And is it wrong of me to wish he would stop being so damn noble about it?

Not that I want Charlie dead – far from it, but Desmond is so preoccupied with 'saving' Charlie that he barely gives a thought to anything else. Maybe he's trying to atone for whatever thing he seems to think was so unspeakable in his past but, really, would it hurt him to give it a rest?

Again, I don't want Charlie dead, but I don't think Desmond should be so stressed about it either. Can't he just relax for once? Maybe I'm only saying that because I want him to "relax" his guard some around me. No more pushing away or "I'm not for the likes of you, Claire." A little bit of receptiveness would be nice. At least I wouldn't feel like I'm constantly running into a brick wall in regards to him.

So right now I feel like the world's most selfish person for even thinking "stop worrying about saving Charlie, Desmond!!" If there's such a thing as fate, shouldn't we all let it take its course? I feel even worse about the whole thing since I'm pretty sure Charlie loves me. He hasn't said so in so many words, but it's the little things he does that makes me suspect he thinks of me as more than just some girl he thinks needs protecting. (For the record, I can take care of myself just fine but it's still nice that someone wants to take care of me.)

Charlie's been scribbling away at a song he claims is for me. Thomas once painted me a picture and I had a boy in high school who wrote me a poem, but a song is a first. Watch it be a love song. Like a musical proposal. Then I'd feel even worse for all but throwing myself at Desmond who acts like he could care less. Maybe I just like a challenge. Who knows? Even I can't explain it.

_Claire_


	5. Chapter 5

**Day 85**

Dear Diary,

Hormones. I blame my new mum lactating roller coaster hormones for the harsher parts of that last entry. If something happened to Charlie. . .I mean really happened like in Desmond's visions, I don't know what I would do. Or Aaron. He kind of thinks on him as a dad – as much as a baby can do that sort of thing. It's so cute how he gurgles and coos when his eyes focus in on Charlie. Sometimes I wish I could be that happy to see him.

There I go again. Getting in a dig on poor Charlie who tries as hard as he can. Sometimes I think it's too hard, though. Too over-the-top. He's toned the "helpfulness" down some in the past week which is actually a good thing. I should just sit him down and explain that the smother-hold neediness is not attractive to me. That's probably the best way to go about it since he doesn't take hints and clues well. What did Desmond call it? You need to "hit Charlie over the head with a clue by four." I laughed till I had actual tears rolling down my face. Still, Charlie cares a great deal for Aaron (and me) and that really means a lot when we're stuck in a place like this. I want to be who he thinks I am. Really I do. Sometimes that is just not possible.

Till next time...

_Claire_


	6. Chapter 6

**Day 87**

Dear Diary,

Charlie can be really sweet (like the picnic) but so can Desmond. I'm trying not to think on it like a competition but sometimes (well, all times) it's exciting. I know Desmond has that Penny girl somewhere and there's probably no ulterior motive to his kindness, but it's exciting all the same.

Desmond has this spot by the caves he likes to go to that's so quiet and peaceful. I think of it as "his." If I'm ever taking a walk and he's not on the beach, I know he'll be at his spot. He's always good for a chat – even if he does keep insisting that there's some dark, shameful secret hiding in his past and I should make nice with Charlie. Mum used to say I had a "Martyr" complex and wanted to "fix" everyone – especially the dark wounded souls. Guess she was right because I don't have any other explanation for my attraction to not one but two wounded souls on this Island.

Today I found Desmond at his usual spot. He actually grinned when he saw me and waved. Lately, it's been rare to find him in a good mood so I intended to take full advantage of it.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked, arranging myself cross legged when he motioned me to sit. "You're awful cheery."

"I do have good moods that do not come after a bottle of wine or a few beers, you know," he said.

"Yeah, of course, sorry," I said, tucking my hair behind my ears.

"I made something for you, Claire."

_Claire_. I love how he says my name with that accent of his. _Claire. _

"Yeah? That's sweet. Thank you, Desmond." (I actually answered right away so hopefully didn't seem like I was mentally obsessing over how he says my name. Still, I always wonder if he can read minds as well as divine the future.)

"You haven't even seen what it is yet."

"Either way, it's a present and a nice gesture so thank you."

"You're welcome," he says, uncovering a plate of sandwiches. "I made them. Well, not the bread or the peanut butter, but I made mango marmalade to go on them. Charlie mentioned your love of peanut butter, and protein is important for a nursing mum, so I. . .I made them."

"Thank you!" I said, thrilled by the gesture. "That's really sweet, Desmond."

He wouldn't meet my eyes. "You can take them back with you to camp. I gave Charlie the peanut butter jar so if he comes up with something similar, pretend to like it, yeah?"

"Yeah," I agreed. "Speaking of camp, I should probably head back. Maybe we can talk some time later?"

Desmond nods slowly, still not meeting my eyes. "I know where to find you."

"Thanks again," I said, gathering the plate of sandwiches as I stood. "You're really sweet."

"That's the first time anyone's called me that."

"Well, you are," I insisted, leaning in to kiss his cheek impulsively. "And not just because I say so."

Desmond finally looks up, opening his mouth as if to say something, but no words come out. I smiled, waving with the hand not holding the plate, before turning to head back to camp.

So, I'm not saying it's a competition between Charlie and Desmond but it does leave me to think "What if it were?"

What if it were?

Who would I choose?

The answer's not simple like on TV shows.

Till next time...

_Claire_


End file.
